


Blue Pon Farr

by tripperfunster



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:26:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripperfunster/pseuds/tripperfunster
Summary: Pon Farr is a Star Trek thing, where Vulcans are biologically obligated to mate every 7 years, or die.  Well, who doesn't like a good fuck or die story? :D





	Blue Pon Farr

**Author's Note:**

> This has been languishing for YEARS on my hard drive. I just wasn't sure how to end it, until I just finally did. I had such a crush on these two, so despite it being almost a decade after the fact, I hope someone will enjoy this.

I suppose, looking back, that I should have seen the signs. He’d been increasingly agitated and restless, and even after our work was done and our tools put away, he would wander the lair. The hollow sound of his boot heels clicking late into the night.

But our plan was almost complete, and it wasn’t unusual for both of us to forgo food and sleep in a manic attempt to push the envelope and create something bigger, better and badder than we ever had before.

“This time, Minion,” he’d tell me, green eyes shining in the reflective glow of the control panels, “this time victory will be mine.” And I would agree, like I always did. But this time _did_ seem different somehow. He was edgier, more determined. More cunning. But of course it was none of those things and all of them. It was something much deeper and more primal. The legacy of a race and civilization over a million years old and now 35 years extinct.

Except for one lonely survivor.

Knowing what was to come, I had watched him closely each time we approached the seven year mark. At fourteen he’d shown nothing of the curse, but of course, he was still young. Twenty-one and twenty-eight seemed no different, and I thought maybe he’d been spared. Perhaps it was because he had never been assigned a bond-mate. Perhaps it was because his home planet no longer existed. But as each ‘time’ came and went with no blood fever, no cruel primal urges, I began to relax. My naïve conviction of his safety was our downfall.

I hadn’t even realized another seven years had passed until Miss Richie called my name. Or, more aptly, cried it out. Fear and pain giving her voice a sharp edge which pulled me from my thoughts and sent my heart thumping.

I had bound her hands and feet to the chair, as per usual and Megamind had been baiting her. They both seemed to enjoy this part of the game. He would imply that she had information that he required, she would imply that he was bumbling imbecile destined for failure, and on they would go. The attraction was undeniable, and she was smart. God, was she smart! A good match for him in many ways, but he could never seem to get past the self imposed structure of the kidnappings, and she had never asked him to.

He would never admit to it, but he was a painfully shy individual. Miss Richie was the only guest we’d ever entertained (if you can call it that) and I don’t think Megamind had ever even dared to touch her. It was always I who captured her and tied her up, and it was always up to me to take her back home. Not a touch to the arm, not a soft caress to the cheek, not even an accusatory poke to the chest. Except today.

At her strangled cry I looked up from my monitor to see him looming over her. One gloved hand tangled in her short hair, forcing her head back and exposing her long, slim throat, the other grasping her jaw as he leaned in menacingly, teeth bared.

“Megamind, what … what are you doing?” she asked, one part afraid and one part truly curious.

It was such a surprising dichotomy from the usual pattern, that at first I did nothing aside from stand there staring, mouth agape. 

“You’re hurting me!”

“I know,” he replied, voice darkly sinister, “isn’t it glorious?”

Miss Richie, looking as surprised as I surely felt, looked from me to him and then back again. When it became clear that I was not going to intervene she took matters into her own hands (so to speak) and decided to protect herself.

“Back off!” she bit out, then slammed her forehead into his sizable blue one. Megamind released his grip on her and stumbled back, both hands cradling his head.

“You … bitch!” he spat, and raised his fist to strike her.

Imminent danger set a fire under my heels and I sprang forward and grasped him by the arm.

“Sir?” I asked, overly loudly, “did you want me to ready the destruct-inator?”

He turned to me, eyes still aflame and mouth pressed into a thin line. He seemed to not recognize me at first, but after a moment of searching my face, his eyes softened and his expression gentled.

“Minion,” he said, as though he had just remembered my name.

“Are you okay, Sir?”

He chewed his lip a moment, then shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

His arm relaxed, and I released it, letting it fall to his side.

“So … do you want to continue? Or should we do a rain check here?”

Megamind’s brow creased. I’m wasn’t entirely sure he’d understood the question, until he turned back towards Miss Richie and visibly flinched.

“Rain check!” he cried, eyes wide, “Definitely rain check.”

He pushed past me and quickly exited the room, letting the door slam behind him. Miss Richie’s eyes met mine.

“What the hell was that?” she asked. 

I shrugged and then lied. “I have no idea.” I shook the can of spray until the ball bearing rattled around, then aimed it at her face. “I’ll take you home now.”

***************

 

When I returned he was sitting on the floor in the middle of the Great Room, knees hugged to his chest. I busied myself, unsure of how to broach the subject, but after a while he did it for me.

“Is she okay?”

I nodded while organizing the wrenches by size. “She’s a bit shaken up, but she’ll be fine.”

He turned his head to rest an ear on his knees and looked up at me. A posture more befitting a child than a man, but endearing nonetheless. 

“She’s ovulating.”

It was a statement, not a question, so I did not answer.

“I don’t know how I knew that,” he continued, “but I could tell. And it made me … want to do things to her. Terrible things.”

“You know, sex isn’t a terrible thing,” I said, still hoping against hope that I’d been reading him wrong.

“I know that, Minion,” he said, with a sad smile, “at least, from what I understand, that’s true. I wanted that, but I wanted more. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to take her. I wanted to … possess her, _consume_ her.” He placed a hand over his mouth, as if to stop the words, his eyes wide and afraid. “What’s wrong with me?” he said through his fingers. “I’m a villain, but I’m not a barbarian. Those thoughts aren’t mine, I’m not crass like that!”

I moved over to sit on the floor in front of him, and held out my hand. He unwrapped one arm from around his knees and placed his hand in mine.

“I think it’s time we had a talk,” I said.

*************

 

“Thousands and thousands of years ago, your people were a savage bunch. Many wars were waged and many lives lost, until one man stood up and showed your people a different way to live. He taught them how to use their brains, instead of letting their emotions rule their lives. It took many generations to create the beautiful, peaceful creatures that you’ve become, but with great perseverance, your amazing intellects eventually overcame your wild, barbaric nature. Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?” he asked, his mouth a worried frown.

“Yeah, mostly. Unfortunately, some instincts are too deeply imbedded in your DNA, and the Pon Farr seems to be one of them.

“ _Pon Farr?_ ” he said, curling his lip as though the words themselves had a bitter taste.

“Yes. Every seven years, males are taken over by a primitive breeding instinct. This ancient drive is so powerful it takes over all other functions, both intellectual and emotional. It basically shuts down the higher functions of your brain for the duration of the Pon Farr.”

“And how long does it last?”

“Well,” I said, “a few days to a week.”

“Great. So all I have to do it take it easy for a week and it will blow over. Call Mr. Goody Two-shoes and tell him I’ve gone on vacation.”

“Yeah, uh, “ I said grimacing, “that’s the thing. It lasts that long when you actually … have someone to breed with.”

“Oh. And if I don’t?”

“Weeeell, there’s not a lot of documentation on that.”

“Minion?”

“It’s just that um … well, it hasn’t happened in _every_ case, but it seems that many people, who’ve been unable to find … a suitable partner have, uh …”

“Don‘t mince words, please.”

“Well,” I said, looking at his slim blue fingers grasped in mine, “um, they uh, get the Plak Tow, or uh, bloodfeverandtheydie.”

“They WHAT?” he cried, pulling his hand from my grip. “Die? Like, dead? Do you mean to tell me that if I don’t …” he flailed his arms “get laid in the next few days, I’m doing to die?”

I covered my face and nodded. “I think so.”

“Well that’s just _great_ ,” he said, slapping his hands on his thighs. “I’m supposed to go from blushing virgin to Lothario in less than a week? Impossible!”

“Well, that’s the other thing, Sir. Pon Farr isn’t an afternoon of gentle love making. It’s a brutally violent time of very rough intercourse, and you are much stronger than the average human. I don’t think this is something that an Earth woman would survive.”

“Oh,” he said simply, and my heart twisted as I watched his face fall with the realization. “Okay then.” He took a deep breath and pasted on a brave smile. “So, how long to I have?”

“We don’t know for sure,” I said, not sounding very convincing, even to myself. “This was what might have happened on your home planet. And now that you’re here on Earth, it might not get that bad.” I shrugged.

“Or it might get worse. Walk me through the worst case scenario, Minion. I need to prepare myself.”

So I explained to him the blood fever. How his mind would seem on fire. How the aching need within him would superceed everything else. And how eventually, he would go insane with that unmet desire and that the heat from the fever would eventually boil his brain inside his own skull. Well, I didn’t say it like that exactly, but looking into those bright, earnest eyes, even my gentler explanation felt excessively cruel.

I pulled him into a crushing hug and did my best to keep my emotions at bay. He squeezed back and patted my arm.

“Don’t worry,” he said, looking up at me, “we’ll figure something out.”

“If anyone could, Sir, it would be you.”

“Thank you, Minion. Your faith in me means a lot.” He removed himself from my grasp and headed off to bed.

Five hours later I found him pacing in the fake observatory, in only his pajama bottoms.

************

He had been working on something, but what, I could not tell. Bits and pieces of machinery and bolts lay strewn about, and he paced maniacally back and forth, an unplugged soldering iron in one fist.

“Sir? Do you want me to fetch your slippers? You’re going to cut your feet.”

“No time, Minion. I’m working on something.” He stopped, touched the iron to his lips (yes, it _was_ cold, thank goodness) and tapped it there, staring at the pile of odds and ends. “Huh. What the heck was I making, anyway? No matter, it will come to me.” A brainbot circled around him and deposited a rasp in his free hand, then skittered away.

As he bent over the mess I tried not to ogle his thin frame. He never walked around shirtless. This was absolutely unheard of. I had long been shut out of his dressing room, and although it hurt to give him that independence, it had all been part of growing up.

“Oh yes!” he cried, one finger upheld, “I’m making myself a mate!”

I looked dubiously at the pile of debris and smiled.

“Great. Do you think it will work?”

“I have no idea, Minion, but it certainly can’t hurt to try.” He pushed some scraps around with one toe, then sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Now where the heck is the rasp?”

“It’s uh … in your hand, Sir.”

Megamind looked at the soldiering iron and crinkled his brow.

“No, no. Not this. A _rasp_ is a small file for metal.” He took his other hand and made a back and forth filing motion. Oh!” he exclaimed, noticing the item in question, “Here it is! Now, what was I doing again?”

I walked over and almost touched him on the shoulder, holding back at the last minute.. “Maybe you should get some rest,” I offered.

“I’m fine, Minion,” he said, shrugging me off. “I’m not tired, I’m just having trouble concentrating. I mean, how am I supposed to get any work done when it’s so damned hot in here? Don‘t we have a fan? Can‘t we afford at least one Goddamned fan? Ugh!” he cried in frustration, clawing at his chest. “I feel like I’m suffocating in here. And why are your just standing there? Prop open a door or something!“ He took a couple of deep breaths and looked over to me. “It’s not hot in here, is it?”

I shook my head no.

“Then the fever’s starting,” he said, shoulders slumping.

I raised my hand, as an offer to check and he leaned into it. As my fingers curled around his forehead I tried to not react to the startling heat.

“Shit.” he said, pulling away and heading back to his scraps and bolts. “Shit. This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“I don’t know, Sir. But I … don’t think so.”

“I need something real. Alive.”

“I just wish I could help. It‘s my job to take care of you, and now I‘m failing you in a most spectacular way.”

Megamind looked up to me, eyes wide, then sprang to his feet. 

“Minion, you fantastic fish, you. Perhaps you can!”

“Just name it, Sir. I’m there for you.”

“That’s exactly it, see? _YOU_ could be my mate! Just a few-” he waved a hand at the lower half of my robotic suit, “… modifications, and we’ll be set!” He laughed with glee as he sifted through the assortment of parts. “You’re real and alive! And your suit would protect you! That is … if you’re willing?”

My heart twisted again as I nodded.

“I would be honoured, Sir,” I said, my voice cracking, “but I’m afraid that …”

“That what? Things would get weird between us?”

“Ha! Well, no, not really. It’s just that … how do you feel about me?”

Megamind stopped and looked up at me. “What do you mean? You’re Minion! You’ve been my constant companion since before I can remember. There isn’t anyone else on this planet that who knows me as well as you do, and no one that I’d rather have help me through this.”

I sighed and took his hand again. “How do you feel about me right now?”

“What?” he asked, suddenly shy. “Do you want me to say it? Because I will. I love you, Minion. It’s not a secret. You’re the best friend an evil villain could have.” He blushed, but held my gaze.

“Yes,” I said, smiling despite myself, “but are you attracted to me?”

“Well,” he hedged, biting his lip, “I’m not _un-_ attracted to you. I’ve uh … never really thought of you that way before. I just need to … warm up to the idea.”

“That’s the problem, Boss. You’re already more than warmed up. You were just about to have your way with Miss Richie, and that was even before the fever set in. In fact, you really should be seeing me as a rival. Males in Pon Farr eshew all other males. They need their partner to fully submit, and other males are often killed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know for sure, but I suspect its because of our differing physiology. You’re warm blooded and I’m not.” I shrugged. “The good news is, I’m not a challenger, the bad news is, your brain doesn’t see me as a viable mate.”

“Oh. Okay.” he said, turning to toss his tools onto the pile. “So … I’m going to turn in. I’ve got some thinking to do.”

He turned to leave and I tamped down the anger that was boiling up inside of me. How could this horrible thing be happening to him, and why was I so powerless to stop it?

“Uh, Sir?”

Megamind stopped.

“Your bedroom is the other way.”

“Yes, of course it is. I totally knew that.”

Three hours later he was on the roof, sans pants.

**************

 

Now, to see him shirtless was a bit of a surprise, but to say that I was gob smacked at his complete lack of clothes would be an understatement. He was pacing the perimeter of the rooftop, muttering to himself, and every once in a while would stop and take great sniffs of the night air. The gentle light of the moon spilled over his back and shoulders and I could see that he was flushed with fever, his smooth skin more pink than blue.

“Its time,” he said, to the twinkling lights below, “its time.”

“Time for what, Sir?”

When he turned around I almost cracked my bowl. His face had changed to something almost unrecognizable. Not his actual face of course, but his expression. The pupils of his normally mischievous green eyes were blown so wide they only showed black, and his lips were stretched into something resembling a smile, but came off more of a grimace.

And he was … well, I’m not quite sure how to say this, but his uh … he had an erection. I really wasn’t sure where to look. I wanted to be respectful, but it was jutting out crudely, like an exclamation mark. I coughed nervously and looked over his left shoulder at the city lights.

“Maybe we should uh … go inside?”

He pressed the heel of one hand to the base of his erection.

“It’s time,” he repeated, stumbling slightly. Much too close to the roof’s edge for my comfort.

“Hey, maybe it’s time for some cool cloths. Are you hot? Why don’t you come inside and I’ll get some nice cool, wet cloths for you.” I made a gesture to the door.

Instead, he turned back to the skyline and sighed.

“Not much longer.”

I came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

He peered over the edge to the pavement below and my mind followed his thoughts. I tightened the grip on his shoulder before he could even form the words.

“I could end it now.”

“Not yet,” I implored. “I have one last plan.”

“Oh Minion,” he said, slumping back against me, “thank God.”

“Don’t thank him just yet,” I said, lifting him up and hoisting him over my shoulder. “Now let’s get you those cold cloths.”

I took him inside, his hands fisted in the fur of my suit, and his erection pressing into my breast plate.

 

*******

*******

He arrived within twenty minutes of my phone call and judging from the tousled look of his hair, I must have roused him from sleep, but he said nothing of it. He looked somehow smaller, and more human dressed in civilian clothes, and in the harsh light of the lair, the silvering at his temples and subtle crows feet were even more pronounced. This is not what I wanted. The time for a hero was now, and this man was my last hope.

I ushered him into a chair and placed a hot coffee in his hands, and he sat, attentive and focused while I told the tale of the history of the people of my master’s doomed planet.  
When I was done I waited, fins crossed and heart pounding, for a sign. A smile, a nod, something, anything to say that he understood. That his people also had a similar affliction, and had found a way to combat it.

Instead, he chewed his lip and stared at the empty bottom of his cup.

“I’m sorry Minion, but I’ve never heard of this before.”

“But ..” I stammered, “your planet was from the same quadrant! Your people must have _some_ shared attributes? Or even had some sort of interaction with each other?”

Metro Man looked to me and gave a small shrug.

“They might have, but I have no way of knowing. My parents didn’t have the foresight to give me someone like you. All that I know, is that I’ve never had this …Plak Tow … you call it? And that’s really all I can say.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to not sound crushed, but failing miserably. “I, um …thanks anyway.” I turned away towards the monitors and tried to gain control of myself.

“Where is he?”

“Oh! Uh, I put him in the panic room,” I said, blinking away my tears. “Sir had it built a few years ago, and it seemed the safest place for him, considering.” My hand wavered over the button for the camera in that room. Oh what the hell, I decided, he might as well see it for himself. “He would be horrified, of course, if he knew you could see him like this. He always hated … showing any weakness.”

“I understand.”

I pressed the button and we both stared at the dark form on the monitor. The lights were dimmed, as per his instruction. He had become so hyper-sensitive that I had cleared the space of any and all accoutrements, and he lay there, bare as the room around him, back arched, head thrown back and his chest heaving as he writhed and panted on the cold cement floor.

“Good gravy,” he breathed, peering at the monitor, “that Pon Farr is a helluva thing.”

“Yes,” I said, looking at the tiny image of my master. My friend. My life long companion. “and its such an undignified way to die. He deserves so much better.”

“He‘s not going to die.”

“Weren’t you listening?” I asked, watching Megamind twist his slender limbs in an effort to ease his discomfort, “if he can’t find a mate, the fever will kill him. OH MY GOD! What are you doing?”

Metro Man had removed his shirt and was unbuckling his belt.

“What do you _think_ I’m doing? He needs a mate, one that he can’t destroy. Why not me?”

“B-because,” I stuttered, “because you’re a man! Megamind’s not gay!”

Metro Man stopped his unbuckling and levelled his gaze at me.

“Have you _met_ him?”

“Well yeah, I …”

“Single guy, lives with a male ‘companion’, has a penchant for tight leather pants and an obsession with lasers and disco balls. Do I need to go on?”

“Oh my goodness,” I said, the realization hitting me like a ton of rainbow bricks.

“Hey, forest for the trees, buddy,” he said, letting his trousers drop and stepping out of them. He folded them and hung them on the arm of the chair, then straightened, hands on his hips. “Let’s do this.”

“But … do you really think he’s-”

“Does it matter?”

“No,” I said, still consumed with this new information. “I guess not.”

“Then lead me to him.”

 

***********

I prepared him beforehand, of course. Both with detailed advice on the proper way to submit, and uh …well, lubrication. Metro Man might be blessed with invulnerability, but my Boss was all too mortal. It hurt me to see him suffering so badly, and I wanted to do my best to insure that the effects of the Pon Farr wouldn’t hurt him any more than we could help.

I sat at the control panel, muscles tensed, and when I finally gathered the courage, I pressed the button that opened the door to the panic room. My finger hovered over the intercom as Metro Man cautiously entered the dimly lit space.

“Submit!” I hissed to myself, “Submit!” As though he could hear me, Metro Man bowed his head and held up his hands to show his peaceful intent. He certainly couldn’t be hiding any weapons in his naked state, but bereft of clothing, his broad shoulders and sheer bulk were threatening enough.

“Hey, little buddy,” he whispered, keeping his eyes averted. Startled by the sound, Megamind scrambled to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. His eyes rolled around in his head a moment, before he managed to focus in on his nemesis.

“You!” he hissed, lips drawn back in a snarl, white teeth gleaming in the low light.

Arms still raised, Metro Man sank to one knee, then manoeuvred the other one underneath him as well.

“I’m here to help you.” He placed both hands on the floor and let them slide forward, until he was positioned in a deep bow.

“No,” said Megamind, his breathing accelerating, one hand working the length of his cock. “Get out.”

“I will,” he said, careful to not disagree with him, “just let me help you first.”

“Go. Now.” he growled. He pressed his face to the cool cement wall, his mouth forming a moue of regret. “Please.”

Metro Man shuffled himself more sideways and tucked his knees further underneath him, pushing his back end up in the air. The position was, as my beloved nature shows would say, ‘presenting.’ Megamind gripped the wall, his internal struggle evident on his tortured features.

“No.”

Metro Man sighed and stretched into an even deeper bow, his forehead resting on the cement floor.

“Fuck me,” he said, (eliciting a gasp of surprise from me) then he proceeded to rock back and forth on his knees, Megamind’s gaze riveted on his swaying hips. He gave a short bark of a cry and launched himself at his nemesis. I held my breath as I watched the unlikely coupling. Megamind began thrusting the second he made physical contact and he gripped Metro Man around the waist as he rutted clumsily against him. Metro Man shifted slightly and twisted his hips to aid in penetration, and sure enough, not two thrusts later, Megamind found his mark and both men cried out. One with relief and the other … I’m not sure.

Megamind began to pump in earnest, eyes squeezed shut, hips snapping a steady beat. The only sounds emanating from the dark room were his strangled grunts and the slap of flesh on flesh. Considering the advanced state of his arousal, I found his stamina quite surprising. It was quite a few minutes of steady copulation before his spine suddenly stiffened and he cried out as his body finally found some measure of release.

Neither man moved, as my boss drew in a series of shaky breaths, and then, as if there hadn’t been a break in his rhythm at all, he resumed his steady thrusts, which went on for quite a while before pausing in a similar fashion. This pattern repeated itself many more times, with the length between completion varying from a few, to several minutes.

Finally, after almost and hour an a half of non-stop intercourse, Megamind shuddered and slumped against his partner, his still turgid penis slipping free and hanging heavily between his legs. Metro Man held his position, his own breathing quite steady, but when it became apparent that Megamind was done, at least for the time being, he slowly turned over, pulling the now limp form of my boss up and across his chest, supporting him with one arm. He placed his other hand carefully against the blue forehead, and before I could press the button and ask the question, Metro Man looked to the camera and twisted his hand at the wrist, in a ‘so so’ motion.

So, the fever was still there, but seemed to not be getting any worse. For the first time since I let Metro Man in to see Megamind, I felt a bloom of hope.

It was going to be a very long night. I went to make some tea.

***********

 

When I returned, they were at it again. This time their position was not far off the one in which they’d been resting; face to face, with Megamind on top. Well, not exactly face to face, with the considerable size difference between them, but a workable position nonetheless. By the time I’d finished my tea they had gone three rounds, and Megamind had lapsed into a fitful sleep on Metro Man’s sculpted belly. 

I was about to use the intercom, to commend Metro Man on his performance when he did the strangest thing. He smiled. Not to me, of course. This was a small and private smile, meant only for himself, then he took his hand and caressed the soft curve of Megamind’s head.

My tea cup smashed against the hard floor and I cursed myself for leaving it so close to the edge of the desk. I really must take care to not be so clumsy.

It's difficult thing, letting go. Much more than I ever would have thought. He's really all I have, and until tonight, he would have said the same for me. He would still say that, I'm sure. And as I lay him in his bed, body cleaned, and fever gone from his slight frame, I cherish that I can do this for him. He's exhausted, poor thing. Metro Man also seemed worn out when the were done. He dressed in silence, then gave me a squeeze on the shoulder.

"Thank you," I managed to squeak out, and he just nodded in reply. I owe him my life. My Master's life. And I suppose I will owe him again in another seven years. I smooth a robotic hand down Megamind's blue cheek. For now, he is mine again.

FIN


End file.
